Chapter 12- Attrition

The makeshift camp that Marsus and Renault had passed through on their way to city was still there, though a few more tents had been erected, and more survivors lingered there uselessly. They had received word that the Oblivion Gate had been closed and the city retaken, but they weren't exactly rejoicing. There was calm now the threat of death was over, but now there was also a feeling of despair, as they looked upon their broken city and dwelled on those many loved ones they had lost. But there was some joy here at least, when Calvus found something that was dear to him.

"Tiber!"

The horses that had been in the stables near the city gate had been released when Matius had fled out of the city, and most had made it out alive. Calvus' bay horse was among them. He stood proudly as the five approached him, and nuzzled Calvus in affection when he drew near.

"I'm glad you're still alive boy!" Calvus laughed as he mounted his steed.

He pulled Aranwen onto the saddle, as Renault and Marsus untied their mounts from a hitching post.

"We have three horses and five people." Calvus said, "And Tiber can only carry two. You'll have to sort out who will share one of the horses."

"I'll ride with his highness-" Renault started.

"Please, don't call me that..." Martin interrupted meekly.

"Okay...I'll ride with hi- Martin, I am his Blade after all."

"You say that as if I have a problem with that!" Marsus said flippantly as he mounted his horse.

But even as he said that, and busied his mind with the fiddling of straps and making himself comfortable on the saddle, a small corner of his heart whispered 'Damn...you're not riding with her...'.

He quickly dismissed that however, and concentrated on remembering how to ride again. When all the company were mounted, Renault led them to a nearby inn, where they were to rest and recuperate for the night. As Calvus and Aranwen were at the bar, Renault and Marsus sat down at a round table, with Martin in between them. Spread out over the table was a large map of Cyrodiil, over which Marsus and Renault were arguing.

"We'll have less chance of being ambushed if we take the roads!" Renault said in a harsh whisper, so as not to disrupt the calm atmosphere of the inn.

"Yes, but it will take us three days at least! We'll have to go through Skingrad, then around the Red Ring Road through to Chorrol. It would be easier and quicker to go cross country." Marsus countered.

"Full of Daedra and assassins?"

"Just like all the roads will be!"

"And wolves and ogres and minotaurs?"

"You're exaggerating."

"Calm down!" Calvus said as he sat down with three flagons of ale, "You're disturbing the lovely atmosphere!"

Marsus and Renault begrudgingly halted their argument, and each took a flagon from Calvus. Aranwen sat down with two more, and passed one to Martin.

"How would you resolve this argument then brother?" Marsus asked after a sip of his drink.

"I was a Crusader, not a judge..." Calvus remarked, "Personally I would ask Martin, he's the one we are protecting after all."

As one, they all looked at Martin. For a moment he looked like a frightened rabbit in the path of a stampeding stallion, but this left his face as he descended into thought.

"Well I can't make a decision yet..." he mused, "...until I have all the facts. How strong is banditry on the roads these days?"

"It's grown these past five years since the Divine Crusader left us..." Renault replied, "But it is strongest around The Great Forest."

"I see..." Martin thought aloud.

After a moments pause which was filled by the sipping of drinks and general chatter of the patrons of the inn, he looked as if he had come to a decision.

"The roads will take too long. We will travel across the plains," here Martin traced his finger along the map, across the parchment of County Kvatch "where we can see any enemy coming for miles. We will avoid the Colovian Highlands, and skirt along the edge of the Great Forest. That should more or less get us there in two days at the most."

"Your highness, if I may-" Renault began.

"I have spoken. I have considered your suggestion Captain, but I wish to go across country. And don't call me that."

"Yes...Martin." said Renault, who seemed somewhat deflated after receiving a scolding.

Marsus looked at Martin. The frightened rabbit that had been there had been replaced with the stony face of a ruler, a leader. But then the meekness came back into Martin's face.

"I am sorry Captain...I spoke harshly."

"No offence taken Martin..." Renault said with cold respect.

Everyone else looked away, save for Calvus.

"We'll make an Emperor of you yet!" he joked among the awkward silence, and took a swig of ale.

After their flagons were empty, they bid each other goodnight and headed to their rooms. Marsus unbuckled his Kvatch Cuirass, and laid it upon a chest of drawers. The rest of his armour he scattered haphazardly around his room, leaving only sack cloth pants on underneath. He leant his sword and scabbard against his bed, within close reach, just in case. He then lay down, and welcomed sleep into his arms.

The Imperial City's streets were usually noisy and full in the early hours of the evening in most districts, save one. The Elven Garden's district had a strict law of no loud noises after nine o'clock, and if there were any disturbances a fine would be swiftly administered by a Guard. It was in a room in Luther Broad's Boarding House that Baurus sat on his bed awake, with only the insects of the night outside for company. He ran a cloth up and down the length of his katana, polishing it after it had tasted the blood of assassins. He could clean his sword, but he could never purge his memories of what had happened. The moment he saw Glenroy die, the moment he saw the Emperor's Dead Body, the Prisoner, the Captain, the Blood. The Prisoner, the Captain, the Blood. The Prisoner the Captain the Blood. .

He threw his sword down to the floor. It clattered noisily, and for a moment Baurus panicked and thought he had broken the law, but no guard came running through the door to give him a fine. The Redguard breathed a sigh of relief, and picked up his sword. Well that snapped him out of it at least, but still he could not sleep, for one scene still replayed over and over in his head.

The cold body was pale, devoid of the personality and mind that had governed the Empire. The smell of blood was sickly, but Baurus stood firm, waiting in the murk with only his torch for light and warmth. After what seemed like days passed, the sound of steel shod feet on flagstone startled him, and he swiftly drew his blade and called out:

"Identify yourself in the name of the Emperor!"

"Friend! Commander Adamus Phillia! We heard the Emperor fled this way."

A silver armoured elderly Imperial and several Palace Guards emerged into the torchlight, and were taken aback at the sight of the Emperor.

"Where is his Amulet?" the Commander asked.

"That's Blade business." Baurus retorted.

Despite the technical differences in rank, all members of the Legion held the Blades in some kind of authoritative light, so Baurus could get away with not calling the Commander 'sir' and being so blunt. He would normally have been more courteous, but his mood was dark.

"I see..." the Commander replied, "You take leave soldier, we'll deal with it from here."

"Thank you Commander..." Baurus said, knowing that the title of 'Commander' was all the courtesy the old Imperial would get.

Even now sat in his room he wished his manners were better. He got up and opened the window of his room, and looked out over the houses and gardens. A small light breeze kissed his skin as he leaned on the windowsill and sighed. Something flickered in his peripheral vision, he looked up and saw a pigeon flying towards him and land on the windowsill. It then shook its thin leg at Baurus, who saw there was a small message attached. He carefully removed it from the pigeon's leg, making it coo happily.

"They train them well..." Baurus muttered to no one in particular, and opened the message.

B

A reached us. Sent word to C. There is another DB. Investigate the K.

GJ

Baurus slipped the paper into his pocket, took some seed from a small pouch on his belt and scattered it on the windowsill. The pigeon pecked at it happily, then flew back into the night. Baurus reflected on the message. No one who didn't know the code would know who or what the message was about. Baurus did know the code; it was one of the first things learnt when initiated as a Blade. It was odd, Baurus thought, that he of all people should receive the message that had 'A' and 'K' in it, as rarely was the Amulet of Kings or Assassins discussed. Well he knew his orders now; he would start tomorrow, after trying to get some sleep.

The burning Dremora face was what woke Marsus up. He grabbed his sword, but then realised it was only a dream, and was about to put it back down when he heard a faint sound outside, like a breath or a sigh. There was no use trying to scrabble for his armour in the dark, so he slowly crept towards the door, the moon through the window his only light. The door yielded to the pressure of his free hand, and he looked out into the corridor. Standing in front of Martin's door was Renault on guard. Marsus approached her, but in the darkness she could not see him and put her hand on her sword hilt.

"Relax! It's me!" he said, holding his hands out defensively.

"Oh...hello..." Renault replied with a yawn.

"What are you still doing up?" Marsus asked, standing next to her.

"Guarding the Emperor. It's what the Blades are supposed to do..."

"Do you really need to? We are safe here...you don't need to make up for anything..." Marsus said, attempting reassurance.

Renault then fixed with a calm stare.

"Whether or not I have issues with the Emperors death is of no relevance Marsus. Whatever the effect that may have had on me, Martin still needs guarding."

"Fair enough..." Marsus said in surrender.

Renault then turned back to staring straight at the wall in front of her. Marsus looked at her for a second and then sighed.

"Mind if I join? I can't sleep..."

"I wouldn't mind..."

Marsus then sat down in the corridor, his sword across his knees. Renault continued to stand for a while, but then yielded to her tired legs, and sat down in front of the door.

"You were having nightmares as well?" she asked.

"Yes. It's odd you know. When I was in High Rock I did a lot of regretful things, and I slept like a baby. Then I do a righteous thing by slaying some Daedra, and I get sleep deprivation. That seems just!"

Renault emitted an amused sigh, and looked down the long corridor. There was an absence of any intruder.

"I would really like to know about your past Marsus..." she said, "After what your brother told me, I can't get the idea out of my head that you're a murderer."

"Do you really want to know?" Marsus asked.

There was a pause.

"I could just say 'Oh I don't want to know, you are a different man!' but... it will play on my mind. I want to know Marsus. Just what did you do?"

Marsus looked down, and ran his finger along the fuller of his blade.

"You heard I tried to take my brother's life. I suppose you could say that was justified, as I wanted revenge, I was sore, abandoned, torn. But I did other stuff as well. I summoned the Dark Brotherhood to try to assassinate Calvus. I killed one of my rivals in the nobility to gather the requirements for the ritual. I ordered men to kill other men with a flick of the hand. I drunk, I paid for women, and other pleasures of life. It's the murder that stains my hands the most."

"Everyone with a blade has killed..." Renault said.

"Not all in cold blood though." Marsus replied cynically, "Oh you couldn't say I was evil. I was power hungry, driven by vengeance and bitterness...something which faded after I found out the truth from Calvus. Then being thrown in prison did little to quell my anger, but that has also faded. Now...I want to leave that life behind...start again on the path I should have taken. Saving Kvatch and closing that Oblivion Gate almost felt like recompense for my sins...if only the Gods and Calvus would forgive me, then I would be content."

Renault was silent; she seemed to be taking all what Marsus had said in, mulling it over in her mind. Marsus feared for a moment that she would denounce him as a murderer, and order him to leave.

"Calvus will forgive you..." she finally said reassuringly, "and as for me...despite all you said to have done...they do not reflect what I have seen you do. You saved my life, you saved others...retook a city. Perhaps you were born to be good, you just strayed from the path."

She was looking into his eyes as she said these words, making Marsus feel...strange.

"Perhaps...we'll see..." he smiled.

Renault smiled back, but it quickly left her face, as the sound of a spell being cast and a cry were heard within Martin's room. Within seconds she was on her feet and had bashed the door in, blade in hand.

"My lord!" she cried with alarm.

Marsus ran into the room, seeing Martin stood there in his night clothes, a keen steel dagger in one hand. His other arm was outstretched, having just cast a spell. On the floor was a dead man in crimson robes, a stab wound in his chest and frost burns on his face. The window was open.

"We're leaving now!" Renault growled, "I'll get the others, see to Martin Marsus!"

Marsus poked the corpse with the end of his blade and looked quizzically at Martin.

"What happened?"

"I was listening to your conversation outside when I heard the assassin creep in. Then instinct took over."

"You were listening?"

"Couldn't sleep."

"Well gather your things quickly and be wary, there may be more!"

Marsus stood guard while Martin dressed and packed his things. Within half an hour the party were back on the road, galloping through the darkness. The dark ominous shapes of crooked trees flashed past them, looming like trolls above them.

"Are we being pursued?" Renault shouted, the wind distorting her voice.

"Hard to tell!" Aranwen shouted back.

Marsus looked behind him. Although no pursuit had chased after them when they left the inn, it always seemed that there was some dark presence around the last corner, waiting for them to slow so it could pounce upon and devour them.

Dawn broke. They had covered a few miles on the road, but then fled across the plains of Kvatch. Nothing was pursuing them, save a strange dread that somewhere men lay in ambush waiting for them, or Daedra would pour out of a gate towards them, or mounted assassins would fall upon them with thirsty blades. A few miles from the border of the Great Forest, they made a camp, where they rested except for Marsus and Calvus, who kept watch over them and across the plains, searching for threats. Calvus was clad in his Dwemer armour, his sword bare and resting in the ground. Marsus wore his Kvatch Cuirass and scraps of leather armour, the wolf's head emblazoned on his chest felt like it was scouring the empty space in front of it, dangerous and protective.

"How am I doing?" Marsus asked among the small breeze that rustled the long grass.

"How are you doing with what?" Calvus queried.

"You know the whole...proving myself...thing..."

"Well you haven't murdered us in our sleep yet."

"Huh...I suppose that's progress."

"Indeed it is." Calvus surmised.

A sudden movement among the grasses made both brothers go to draw their blades, but it was only a deer bounding across the plains.

"Someone else tried to murder Martin though..." Marsus said, returning to the conversation.

"Who killed the assassin? You never actually said."

"He killed the intruder himself, with a dagger and frost spell...quite impressive really..."

"I reckon he'll be a good Emperor." Calvus said thoughtfully.

"We need to get him to Jauffre first..."

No more was said.

A few hours later they packed up camp, and rode a steady pace through the plains to the north. Another day and a half of riding and they were back on the road, weary from making such haste.

"So...what is going to happen when we get back?" Martin said, "I would much like to speak with Jauffre and learn everything about my past."

"You should get a chance to do that. As for what we do, we might want to take you to the Imperial City immediately..." Renault replied, "Although we shall see what Jauffre says."

As they rode up the hill however, and as they turned the corner and the Priory came into view, they saw their worst fears incarnate. The dread they had felt pursuing them had overtaken them and struck their sanctuary and safe house. Weynon Priory was under attack.